


United Nations

by Zenia (coffeeandchocolate)



Category: Quantico (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeeandchocolate/pseuds/Zenia
Summary: Simon and Raina meet at the United Nations headquarters while working as interpreters.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosaliepennington](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosaliepennington/gifts).



They met in the United Nations headquarters.

It was a five language meeting – Arabic, Chinese, Russian, French, and English. There were twelve interpreters and thirty assorted politicians and diplomats in the room, a clamor of voices and languages making it hard to focus. They were sitting next to each other, him translating into English and her into Arabic.

Raina rubbed her temple in an attempt to ward off the incoming headache, translating the words practically on autopilot. They’d been at this for hours. She was starving.

To her eternal relief, they paused the proceedings after another ten minutes. She grabbed her purse and hurried out the door.

“Hey!” she heard a voice from behind her say. She turned around to see the dark haired man from the meeting that had been sitting next to her moving to catch up. He smiled a little bashfully and offered her his hand, reaching to support the back of his neck with the other. “Um, Raina, right?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, and managed to return the smile, resuming walking. “And your name is…Simon?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just wanted to check to see if you were okay, you seemed like you had a headache in there. I have some aspirin, if you want?”

She smiled for real at him then. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine. I’m just tired, I haven’t eaten.”

“Oh, do you want to go get dinner? There’s a good place just down the street, I was just going to grab something.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be great company,” she warned him. “I’m too hungry!”

He grinned. “I think I can be the judge of that. Shall we?”

* * *

They went to grab dinner at a small diner just a little outside the UN building.

“When did you learn Arabic?” she asked before taking a bite of her sandwich. He took a quick sip of water, then answered, “Six years ago. I spent some time in Lebanon, picked up the language while I was there. Thought it would be a good idea to get better at it. What about you, your C language is French, right? How long have you spoken that?”

“High school,” she admitted, feeling better with every bite. “It’s only my C because I’m completely fluent in English and Arabic.”

They talked about languages for a while – her mention of the fact that she spoke Swahili had delighted him – before the conversation drifted into politics, to family, to hobbies. They lingered at the table after they’d finished eating, sharing stories. She didn’t realize how long they had been there until the waitress returned with the bill.

She reached for it, but he grabbed it first, already reaching for his wallet. “I got this.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to –” she tried to protest, but he waved her off.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured her. “My treat. Uh, do you have plans for the rest of the night, it’s trivia night at this café down the road if you want to go?”

“Not tonight,” she said apologetically. “I’m supposed to be meeting my sister tonight. Next week, maybe?”

A bright smile spread across his face. “Sounds like a plan.” 

* * *

 

And so they continued like that for the next month – meeting after work for a cup of tea or dinner, occasionally stepping out to grab a quick bite for lunch, and doing their best to go for trivia night every week. Raina found herself looking forward to seeing him every day.

One night, they planned to meet at his home instead of going somewhere together as soon as they were done with work. She stopped by her apartment to drop off her files.

She curled up on the sofa, only intending to sit there for a few minutes, but she found herself falling asleep instead. She woke up two hours later to find Nimah sitting on the opposite sofa, having commandeered the coffee table. Nimah rolled her eyes at her.

“Your bed is ten steps that way!” she exclaimed in disgust. “Ten steps!”

“Hmmph,” Raina grumbled in way of response, sitting up and checking her watch. “I need to get going…”

She got off the couch and went to get ready. 

* * *

“Where are you going?” Nimah asked, looking up at Raina as Raina checked her reflection in the mirror hanging by the door.

“Out,” she said shortly. “Meeting a friend for dinner.”

“What friend? You never go out this much.”

“Why are you interrogating me?” Raina demanded, turning to face her sister. “I can have a life of my own, can’t I?”

Nimah frowned a little, eyebrows raising, surprised, a shadow of hurt spreading across her face. “Yes, but you’re not talking to me anymore. You used to always tell me everything. What’s changed?”

Raina felt a momentarily guilt curling in the pit of her stomach, and for an instant, she couldn’t think of _why_ she wasn’t telling Nimah everything. Almost confessed everything. But then she remembered that she was doing absolutely nothing wrong and had nothing to confess. She had a right to something that was just hers.

“You have your friends, I have mine,” she said, and walked out the door.

She ran into Shelby a few steps down the hall.

“Raina! Wow, you look great,” Shelby said, looking her up and down. “Love your skirt. Going out?”

Raina smiled tightly and nodded, tension rising. Nimah. Shelby. Was this really so out of character for her that they had to comment? Couldn’t she go out without being interrogated as if she were doing something wrong?

Shelby didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a casual question. But it rankled all the same.

Raina kept walking.

She, Shelby, and Alex had always been _friendly,_ but never friends. They were Nimah’s friends. Not hers.

Little Raina, Nimah’s naïve, innocent sister, so predictable and boring that her even leaving the apartment outside of work was something to comment on. Was that how they saw her?

She was an adult. She was a fully grown woman that didn’t need to explain everything she did. Not to her sister, and certainly not to her sister’s friends. She didn’t owe anyone anything.

Then why did it feel like she did?

She opted to walk the three miles to Simon’s apartment, hoping the fresh air would help clear her head. It didn’t.

He opened the door when she knocked with a smile and showed her the bottle in his hand with a flourish. “Hey, Raina. I got some orange flower water, in case you want to make some _kaweh baida_ after dinner? I thought you might be missing home.”

And with that, the tension and inexplicable guilt her brief conversations with Nimah and Shelby had caused were gone. She relaxed and smiled, the blissful feeling of relief washing over her. “That sounds great.” 

* * *

Spending time with Simon felt like being home. They ate dinner and talked about work, then drank _kaweh baida_ over a game of chess. It was peaceful, pleasant, comfortable.

Before she knew it, they had been sitting there for hours. They had finished their white coffee a long time ago, and had starting sipping tea when her phone went off. She set down her cup and checked.

“Nimah wants to know when I’ll be back,” she reported. “I didn’t realize it was this late. I should probably–”

“Oh, yeah,” Simon said quickly and put down his own cup. “Of course.”

He hesitated, looking at her intently. “This was really nice. Would you…would you maybe want to do it again sometime? Saturday, maybe?”

She got up and moved to stand in front of him. Met his gaze evenly and smiled a little. Gave a tiny nod.

His face lit up.

He took her hand and stood up, stepping closer. She was suddenly very aware of how much taller he was than her. How had she never noticed that before?

He moved slowly, hesitantly, reaching out to touch the side of her face with his free hand, running a light thumb across her cheekbone, giving her time to pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch. She could feel her heartrate picking up in nervous anticipation.

He kissed her then, carefully, gently, his mouth soft and warm against hers. She returned the kiss, head tilting up. She could still taste the tea on him.

He pulled back, but remained close enough that she could feel his breath when he exhaled, dark eyes serious. “Lunch tomorrow?”

She smiled. “Okay.” 

* * *

Their relationship changed gradually, easily, moving from their first casual meal as near strangers to something neither of them made an attempt to define out loud. The question had crossed Raina’s mind more than once, and she knew it had Simon’s even more often.

She couldn’t bring herself to define it even to herself.

Did it matter? They were happy. They spent time together and enjoyed each other’s company. They played Scrabble and argued about whether or not transliterations of non-English words counted. They talked about everything and exchanged occasional kisses, increasingly less tentative as time went on.

It mattered to him. He needed that anchor in a way she didn’t think she did. He wanted confirmation that they were a couple. That he meant something to her, in the same way that she meant something to him. And he did.

But she was scared.

Of what?

It wasn’t him. Simon Asher was clever, reliable, and genuinely lovely. He had something worthwhile to say about any topic, and he listened to her when she spoke as well. She’d never known him to be so much as a minute late when they’d agreed to meet somewhere. She had no doubt that he cared about her.

Nimah’s opinion, perhaps? She hadn’t met Simon, but she had never thought much of Raina’s ability to make friends. Raina somehow doubted she’d have a more positive attitude about her ability to choose romantic partners. Maybe her subconscious thought that keeping Simon at a distance – and away from Nimah – was the best way to avoid conflict. Perhaps that was why she hadn’t said a word to her sister about any of this.

She sighed and pushed the thought to the back of her mind. 

* * *

The first word to pop into Simon’s head when he thought about Raina Amin was vibrant.

She was remarkably skilled at choosing precisely the right word to bring across the point, at interpreting in such a way that nothing was lost in translation. Her smile was bright enough to light up a room, and shared easily enough, but her laugh was a rare thing.

Sometimes when it slipped out, she looked surprised at herself, then fell silent, pensive for a moment. She always recovered quickly enough, before Simon even had a chance to ask if she was all right.

Raina was tiny. He wasn’t especially tall himself, but Raina was a half foot shorter than him. He didn’t notice it often – how could he, when there were so many other things about her to catch his attention? Despite her size, she never seemed remotely vulnerable to him, except for those brief moments of unease after a laugh.

She’d been acting strange all week, an observation that he mulled over as he climbed the stairs to her apartment. Sometimes he’d notice her staring at him with a frown, as if he were a puzzle she was trying to figure out. Other times, they’d spend a perfectly normal evening enjoying each other’s company only to be interrupted by her getting a text from her sister, then quickly excusing herself, looking distinctly frazzled.

He knocked.

“The door’s open, come in!” Raina’s voice called. He obeyed, then paused in the doorway.

Sitting on the couch, papers spread everywhere, was a woman that looked just like Raina. She wasn’t wearing a hijab and she was gnawing on the end of her pen, wavy dark hair spilling freely over her shoulders. Sitting next to her was another woman that Simon recognized.

“Alex?”

Alex looked up in surprise and grinned at him. “Simon! What are you doing here?”

He gestured vaguely. “Raina and I were going to go to dinner. What are you doing here?”

“Nimah and I work together. I completely forgot, you’re both interpreters, aren’t you?” Alex asked rhetorically, and he nodded, eyes wandering over to the other woman.

“Hi,” he offered with a small wave and an awkward smile. “I’m Simon.”

She glanced up at him with familiar dark eyes – Raina’s eyes – but looked back down at her papers quickly, as if he wasn’t interesting enough to hold her attention. “Hmm. Who exactly are you?”

“Uh, a friend of Raina’s?” he offered. “Just came to pick her up for dinner.”

Nimah didn’t shift her gaze from her work, but it looked to Simon like she had tensed at his words. She pressed her lips together into a stern line. “I see.”

Raina emerged from her bedroom, clutching her bag. She looked up and paused at the sight and the sudden awkwardness that had fallen over them. Nimah looked up at her and raised an eyebrow. It was an obvious question, but one that Simon had no idea the meaning of.

“Hey, Raina,” Alex said in an obvious attempt to break the tension. “I didn’t know you knew Simon.”

“Oh – yes,” Raina managed to say. Simon’s gaze fell on her hand, suddenly clenched tighter around the strap of her bag. “We met at work a while ago. See you later.”

She crossed the room quickly, grabbed his hand, and practically pulled him out the door. 

* * *

Nimah had always been the rebel. Raina had kept her head down and followed the rules. Done what she was supposed to do. She _liked_ being around Simon, liked spending time with him after work, but him encountering her sister – encountering the other parts of her life – terrified her and made her feel like she was doing something wrong.

It seemed like a ridiculous thought – this was Simon. He was an interpreter. He wore bright yellow beanies and sweaters and patterned shirts. He was the type of person every girl would take home to meet her family without any worries.

And yet she was agonizing over the thought of having to talk to Nimah about who he was to her once she got back home.

The answer to the question she’d been puzzling over slid into place slowly. It wasn’t Simon. It wasn’t Nimah. No, this was entirely _her._

She realized with a jolt that she had a death grip on Simon’s hand. She let it drop.

Raina kept herself tightly controlled in a way Nimah didn’t. In a way Nimah didn’t _have_ to.

Nimah was outspoken and didn’t see the need to soften her words or hold back her thoughts, but she had never had Raina’s level of natural impulsiveness. It was a rare occasion in which she did or said anything she regretted because she followed through on an impulse.

Raina’s control had been carefully cultivated over the years and maintained around everyone other than Nimah. Fully embracing whatever it was between her and Simon would mean she’d have to relinquish some part of that for, and the thought was terrifying.

Simon didn’t act on instinct.

He meticulously thought through every decision he made. Carefully weighed the pros and the cons of every action, just as afraid of doing something wrong as she was, but unlike her, naturally inclined to think before acting. Raina wished that deliberation came as easily to her.

Raina wasn’t good at making friends. She didn’t socialize as effortlessly as Nimah. Simon had somehow, in just a few short months, become one of the closest friends she had. The thought of doing anything that could change that, that could jeopardize what they had…

But how often did she let go? How often did she know what she wanted and go for it, without regard for any consequences?

She stopped in her tracks, right in the middle of the stairwell. He did as well, turning to face her.

Raina took a deep breath and took the leap. “Let’s do this.”

He looked puzzled for a moment, before it hit him. “You mean –”

She nodded. “I’m ready if you are.”

“I love you, Raina,” he said, and his tone was matter of fact. This wasn’t a confession; he didn’t expect a response. “You know that. So if you’re ready, I am too.”

A sudden, uncontrollable smile of relief spread across her face. They were going to be okay,

He returned the smile, wide and warm. She glanced around to see if anyone was coming, then stood on her toes to kiss him quickly.

“Trivia night?” she suggested, pulling back. He took her hand and laced their fingers together.

“Sounds like a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been trying to work on a fic about Simon and Raina for months. I started before the season one finale aired, and never got to a finished product, so I gave up on that. Then about a month and a half ago, someone asked if I'd write one, and I agreed. I tried to go back to one of those ideas, got nowhere, started something entirely new - this - and then the US election happened, and that screwed with my ability to write anything happy, so I went back to the depressing ideas from before. Then, realizing I didn't have the capacity for anything depressing, I tried this again. It got super choppy and awkward, and I'm still not really sure about the whole writing romance thing, and it doesn't make all that much sense, but I tried.


End file.
